


Unprofessional

by blueuniform



Category: Actor RPF, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Filming, Humour, M/M, Wall Sex, argument
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 17:31:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueuniform/pseuds/blueuniform
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris snaps at Zach during filming, which creates a lot of tension between the two. And not just of the angry kind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unprofessional

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leafings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leafings/gifts).



> For AO3 user, britishtwat, who requested an 'on set fight with hot make up kiss in the trailer.'
> 
> I'm really not sure about this fic, it seems very stilted. But I promised to write it so, well, I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> If there are any mistakes, please point them out as I haven't had this betad. 
> 
> Comments would be a dream come true :)

"Can I get a towel?" comes Simon's quiet voice with all its natural humour.

Zach tries, he really does, his lips working furiously as he tries to keep his face straight, but the giggle still escapes, growing into a full-on laugh as Simon's lips stretch into a grin in front of him. God, the man's too good at subtle comedy for his own good. At this rate, with all the times Simon's made Zach and Chris laugh, they'd never get the film finished. 

"Sorry, sorry," he mumbles, covering his face with his hands as he tries to calm his breathing. 

He can still hear people all over the set chuckling feebly and he envies how they're allowed to lose it when he can't. He looks up to meet Chris' gaze, expecting to double-over again as they've done countless of times before, but Chris looks pissed off. Zach sends him a questioning look. He's glaring at Zach, his arms crossed over his chest as he raises an eyebrow. 

"Ready?" he asks him. Zach nods, straightening up and slipping the Spock mask back on, shaking his arms out slightly. 

"Good," Chris says, uncrossing his arms. "Maybe this time we can actually finish this fucking scene without you being childish." 

Zach does a double-take, returning his incredulous gaze and fixing Chris with it, shock evident on his features. 

"Excuse me?" he asks. 

"Just," Chris lets out a breath. "You're a professional actor, surely the same scene can't be so funny the tenth time around." 

Everyone's staring at them, silence abruptly taking the set. Zach's mouth is hanging slightly open and he's gaping at Chris. Even Simon looks surprised as he stares at Chris, not recognising this new douchey behaviour that their co-star seems to be displaying. 

"What's your problem?" Zach demands. "You seemed to find it just as funny as I did." 

"It was funny at first. Now it's just tiresome. I don't know about you, but I actually want to go to sleep at a decent time tonight." 

Simon seems to snap out of his shock enough to try and fix the situation, putting a steady hand lightly on Chris' shoulder. "Look, mate," he begins quietly, "Zach's trying his best, it's not my fault if I'm devastatingly hilarious." 

Zach quirks a smile at him, silently thanking him for trying to break the ice with his asshole-humour. 

He turns away from Simon, hardening his eyes and looking up at Chris who was shaking Simon's hand off. "So I'm not professional enough for you?" he asks him roughly, turning to cross his arms over his chest, not caring one bit if he rumples his costume. 

"Not in this moment, no," Chris retorts, sticking his chin up defiantly. 

Zach nods slightly, something in his chest constricting as he realises that this is the first argument that he and Chris have ever had. He's suddenly so angry, angry at Chris for being such an asshole and angry at himself for being weak enough to care. 

"Well I'm sorry, Mr Hollywood-Hunk," he spits. "It's not like I'm in one of the most popular American TV shows around. It's not like I started as a guest star and stayed as a main character due to my _professionalism_. It's not like I went to theatre school and that I've been acting for practically the whole of my life. No, all of that doesn't matter because when blue-eyed, white-toothed Chris fucking Pine doesn't find something funny anymore, then that means it isn't funny, end of story. I apologise." He sneers the last statement, knowing that his face has grown red with anger but he can't find it in himself to care. He's so fucking furious. 

Silence follows his outburst, Chris' eyes turning comically wide as he takes in Zach's heavily breathing form. 

"Okay," comes JJ's voice from behind them. "We'll just try one more time, then we'll have a small break." Everyone can hear the implied 'so you two can sort yourselves out.' 

Zach watches JJ walk back towards the back of the room, turning to stand next to his director's chair. He gives Zach a small smile of encouragement, before he addresses the room with an "action!" 

Zach turns back in time for Simon's first line, all traces of laughter gone from his body. 

"Can I get a towel?" 

* * * 

The scene goes well after that. When Simon delivers his previously-hilarious line, not even a small smile hitches Zach's lips up, the remnants of Chris' harsh words dampening his spirits. The argument between Zach and Chris has created a truckload of tension, making the fight scene between them incredibly intense and believable. The punches Zach throws at Chris aren't all that soft and Zach feels a pang of guilt when he sees the pain and anger in Chris' eyes, but that small sense of remorse is over-taken by Zach's sense of satisfaction. And when his fingers finally curl around Chris' neck, he has to fight the urge to smile at the look of Chris panting underneath him, completely beaten. It's a kind of vindictive pleasure. 

Suddenly, fingers tightening around Chris' neck, his mind veers down a different path, supplying him with a mental image of Chris panting, red-faced and aroused as he sprawls on Zach's bed. Zach's fingers twitch against his neck and he feels the material around his crotch tighten. Thankfully, Spock's father steps in, telling him to stop and Zach nearly breathes a sigh of relief when he lets go of Chris' neck. He stutters through the rest of his lines, ironically telling the room that he's been 'emotionally compromised.' 

He doesn't make eye-contact with Chris, but he sees Chris pushing himself to his feet, the muscles in his arms flexing as he climbs off the control deck he was just pressed to. 

Zach listens out for the break in filming and when he hears it, he darts off the set, making a beeline for his trailer. He just wants to get the fuck away from Chris, the blue-eyed man behind him who was currently making him feel all these conflicted emotions. 

Zach grasps the handle of the door to his trailer, flinging it open with more force than is necessary. It hits his finger and he curses, stomping his feet a little bit too hard as he steps in. 

He collapses on the sofa, his limbs shaking from repressed emotion before he decides he should be walking off some of his nervous energy. Zach stands, making for the fridge. When he opens it, he stays there, glaring unseeingly into it, eyes roaming the generously-stocked shelves without taking anything in. There's a tentative knocking on the door. 

"Who is it?" he calls out, slamming his fridge door shut. 

No one replies but the persistent knocking continues. He rolls his eyes, leaning his head against the fridge door for a second, before he turns on his heel and walks towards the annoying sound. 

He wrenches the door open, not really expecting anyone and especially not the person that turned up. Chris is standing on his 'doorstep', if you could call it that, shifting his weight from foot to foot, head hung low. He starts to lift it, mouth opening to form -- 

"Fuck off," Zach tells him promptly, shutting the door on his face before Chris had even begun to say anything. 

He turns to walk back into his trailer but he hears Chris' voice call from outside, "But you didn't even know what I was going to say!" 

"I don't give a shit about what you were going to say," Zach calls out, his back to the door as he steps further into his trailer. 

He hears a thump and a crash and he turns to find Chris tumbling over the threshold, finding his footing and shutting it behind him. Zach glares at him for making so much noise. Hell, he glares at him for being in his trailer at all. 

"Was expecting you to be leaning against it or blocking it or something," Chris mumbles, explaining his moment of clumsiness to Zach's floor. 

Zach doesn't even deign that with an answer. Instead he turns around, folding his arms over his chest in a way he hopes looks intimidating. 

"Look, I'm sorry," Chris starts, still staring at the carpet and lifting his hand half-heartedly. "Those things I said back there, they were stupid." 

Zach raises an eyebrow at him, shifting his weight slightly as he waits for more of an apology. Chris looks up at his movement, his eyes taking in Zach's defensive form, before he's suddenly laughing, long, loud sounds pouring from his mouth as he stares at Zach. 

"What?" Zach barks out, trying to sound assertive and not petulant and paranoid. Goddammit, the man was halfway through saying sorry. About yelling at Zach for laughing. And yet, he was now committing the exact same crime. 

"It's just," Chris attempts to say between giggles. "You're there, in all your Spock-ness but you've got your fucking _arms crossed_ and, God, that's -- that's quite an image." Chris takes another look at him and Zach quirks a brow, sending Chris off again. 

Zach breathes out an exasperated sigh, refusing to join in with Chris' infectious laughter. He uncrosses his arms, scratching his forearm uncomfortably. 

"Stop it," he orders. 

Chris straightens up, lips still twitching with involuntary giggles but he seems to have a hold of himself. He lifts his blue eyes to Zach's, humour still dancing in them. They stare at each other for a few seconds and something inside Zach snaps, laughter tearing out of him as he watches Chris try to maintain control over himself. Chris joins in and before long, they're doubled-over, fighting to stay upright. 

"Spock -- with his arms crossed!" Chris wheezes, clutching his thighs in an effort to stay off the floor. 

"Be glad that Spock didn't offer you a beer," Zach tells him between peels of laughter. He doesn't even know why it's so funny. Maybe it's the tension leaving the body, even though he knows he should still be angry. 

Chris let's out another howl, straightening up and staggering to Zach to clutch onto his bicep like a lifeline. "Stop, stop!" 

Zach giggles feebly, suddenly acutely aware of Chris' presence, so close to him, his warm hand on his arm. Chris looks up at him when he hears Zach stop laughing, wondering what changed. Zach shifts slightly, stepping backwards to distance himself from the man leaning so close to him. This causes said man to trip, as most of his weight had been leaning on Zach, toppling onto him. 

Zach staggers backward with alarm at Chris' additional weight, his back hitting the wall in an effort to remain upright and his breath leaves his body in a sharp huff. 

He chuckles slightly, an attempt to distract Chris from noticing that he was currently pressed all down Zach's body. 

"Sorry, man," Chris tells him, not actually making any move to let Zach off the wall. 

"For what?" Zach murmurs, not really caring about what he's saying. He may be talking nonsense but he wouldn't have noticed. He's mainly focusing his attention on diverting his blood away from his nether regions. 

"You know," Chris whispers, straightening up slightly but not stepping back. "For calling you unprofessional." 

Zach nods slightly, keeping his eyes on Chris' blue orbs before replying, "Well you're right. This isn't very professional of me." 

Chris gives him a puzzled look, eyes narrowing slightly in confusion and Zach acts before his rational mind can tell him not to. He leans forward quickly, closing the last few inches between his and Chris' lips, pressing them together. He waits for a beat. 

Chris isn't moving. 

Zach's just about to fall back but then it's like a block falls into place in Chris' mind, jolting him into action. Zach feels a tentative tongue probing along the seam of his mouth and he opens up with a groan, letting Chris' tongue plunder his mouth. 

He pulls back, looking into Chris' eyes briefly before closing his own, angling his head to deepen the kiss. He feels Chris' tongue poke into his mouth again and he sucks lightly on it, feeling Chris melt against him. 

God, this is so unprofessional. But Zach's lusted after it for so long, he's buried so many thoughts and fantasies about Chris, convincing himself that he irrationally wants a straight man. And, well, if said straight man wants to carry on kissing him like that, then fuck professionalism. Seriously. 

Zach moans as he feels Chris' fingers slip into his hair, the action bringing them closer together and it's all Zach's ever wanted, all he's ever dreamed. Suddenly, he's painfully hard in his pants and every flick of Chris' tongue is sending a bolt of arousal through him. He wanders his hands down to Chris' hips, pulling them forward to press against his own and he gasps at the feel of Chris' erection through his trousers. 

Chris moans, fisting his hands even further into Zach's hair as he nips at his lip, sucking it into his mouth. Zach jolts when he feels Chris work a knee in between his thighs and he begins to grind against it, hissing at the sweet friction. 

"Fuck, Zach, you look so -- so -- _debauched_." 

That breaks through Zach's lustful haze and he laughs, the short sound making Chris pull back in confusion. 

"Christ, Chris," he explains. "Only you could be that eloquent during sex." 

Chris grins, ducking his head to kiss Zach's neck. 

"I don't believe this is sex," he replies and Zach can feel him smiling. 

"No?" 

Chris pulls back, shaking his head playfully as he grins. "Nuh-ah. No Tab-A-into-Slot-B going on." 

Zach laughs, his hands ghosting up and down Chris' sides. They stare at each other for a few seconds, stupid smiles on their faces before Chris starts to laugh again. 

"And you yelled at _me_ for inappropriate laughter," Zach grumbles, not really angry about it anymore. 

"Sorry," Chris says, calming down enough to talk. "It's just -- I'm talking about sex with you and you look like Spock." 

Zach grins again, ducking his head to Chris' neck and kisses the sensitive spot there, feeling Chris shiver. "You really find this Spock thing funny, don't you?" 

"Only because you look so stupid." 

"Oh I do?" Zach growls, taking Chris' lips in a kiss again. 

They stop talking after that, settling for gasps and moans as they rock against each other. 

"Fuck, Zach," Chris pants, working his hips faster as he grinds against Zach's thigh and Zach's cocks twitches at the words. Chris strokes a hand down Zach's heaving chest, not stopping before he reaches Zach's trousers. He fumbles with the fastening, his hands working their way into his boxers and he curls his hand around Zach's cock. 

Zach shudders, the feeling of skin-on-skin contact so wonderful after the rough feel of his costume. He looks up, finding Chris' eyes, so large and dark and filled with lust. Chris bit his own lip, stroking Zach once and Zach comes with a cry of Chris' name, shooting all over the inside of his boxers. 

He kisses Chris, hard, hand coming up to fist in his black shirt whilst the other hand jerks Chris through his trousers, cupping and massaging his erection. 

"Come for me, Christopher," he whispers, voice rough with the desire still coursing through his body and Chris stills, yelling Zach's name as he pulses in his pants. 

"Oh shit," Chris pants, coming down from his high as he peels himself away from Zach. He presses a small kiss to Zach's lips, too tired to do much else. "Oh, fuck." 

"Exactly," Zach replies, head thudding back against the wall as he tries to get his head around the fact that this had actually, really, completely happened. 

Chris staggers over to stand next to him against the wall, before deciding he'd prefer to be sitting down. He slides down and Zach's follows suit, until they're a panting heap on the floor, Chris resting his cheek on Zach's shoulder. 

"Oh God," Zach groans suddenly, tensing next to Chris. 

"What?" 

"Costume and make-up are actually going to drown us in our sleep." 

Chris barks out a, in Zach's opinion, far too terror-less laugh, his hand coming up to rest on Zach's stomach. The light touch causes Zach's stomach muscles to clench minutely. 

"We'll make something up," he reassures Zach. 

"You think we can convince them that these stains," Zach gestures to the front of his pants. "And the messed hair," he leans over to ruffle Chris' short strands. "And not to mention the makeup, were all ruined during what, a wrestling match?" 

"Of course," Chris replies cockily. They fall into silence for a minute, Zach's mind already plotting out ways to avoid embarrassment and certain death, before Chris adds, "After all, we are professionals."


End file.
